


Morning and Waffles

by downworldkings (900yearsoftimeandspacce)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: I swear, M/M, this is pure domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:33:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/900yearsoftimeandspacce/pseuds/downworldkings
Summary: The Lightwood-Banes eat breakfast and paint each other's nails. It's cute.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I have to give credit to @nameless_bliss. I would never have written this if it hadn't been for ALDNT. I also may have borrowed their nail painting tradition. 
> 
> And secondly, this is for @itorenia and her lovely Christmas gift, And So It Begins. Thank you again. :)
> 
> HERE'S TO HOPING 2017 IS A KICKASS YEAR!!!

Max runs into the kitchen and jumps into Alec’s arms, Alec only just getting the plate of waffles onto the counter in time. Max curls his arms around Alec’s neck and buries his face against his shoulder. and Alec chuckles.

“Morning, Max.”

Magnus smiles at the two of them from the bar stool on the other side of the counter, and looks over as Raphael shuffles in from his and Max’s bedroom. He’s looking down at the floor, and he stops at the edge of the kitchen.

He’s only been with Alec and Magnus for a few months, and while he understands the _rules_ of the Lightwood- Bane household, he is still painfully unsure when it comes to anything domestic, anything mundane; things like this are always happening; he hangs back, he doesn’t do anything until Max does it first, he refuses to ask for anything from Magnus and Alec. But at least now he sometimes looks to them when he’s unsure. Not always, and it’s only if Max isn’t available or Raphael doesn’t think he has the authority, but still.

“Good morning, Raphael.”

Raphael looks up at him with his big brown eyes, and Magnus smiles. Raphael says a muffled “hi” in response, and begins shuffling across the floor again, toward Magnus, and climbs up into the bar stool next to him, Magnus reaching out a hand to steady it as Raphael pulls himself up. Magnus is still smiling at him as Alec sets down a plate in front of Raphael, Max still clinging to Alec, one of Alec’s arms around him.

Alec still has the waffle iron on by the stove, and he’s using a fork to pick up the waffles and place them on little blue plates before setting them on the counter. Every time he goes near the waffle iron, he turns to the side so Max is as far away from the waffle iron as he can be while still attached to Alec; but he keeps gravitating toward it, throwing Alec off balance.

“Max.” Max looks at Alec innocently, and Alec just sighs.

“Do you want syrup on your waffle, Max?” Alec says, placing another waffle on another plate.

Max’s face splits into a wide grin, and he nods vigorously.

“All right. Why don’t you go sit down next to Raphael?”

Alec sets Max down on the floor, and Max walks around the counter to climb up the bar stool next to Raphael. Again, Magnus reaches out to steady it.  Alec brings the plate with Max’s waffle over to him, along with the syrup, pouring a fair amount onto his plate, and Max starts ripping off little pieces of waffle and shoving them into his mouth. Raphael, who hasn’t touched his waffle, watches him for a moment, then picks up his fork and begins to slowly cut it into little bite-sized pieces. Alec and Magnus just smile at him, and Alec turns back to the waffle iron, pouring the last of the batter in.  

“Raphael, do you want any syrup?”

Raphael looks at Magnus, eyes wide, and just sits there for a moment. Then he looks down at his plate and nods. Magnus smiles a little brighter, and says, “Max, can you pass the syrup to Raphael?” as Alec pulls up a stool across from the three of them and sets plates in front of himself and Magnus.

Max picks up the little pitcher and sets it in front of Raphael, and it almost tips over; Magnus and Alec both reach out to catch it.

Right then, during breakfast, they have the tiniest little moment. It lasts about three milliseconds, but their hands brush and they smile at each other, all fondness and adoration, and it’s like no time at all has passed since this, all of this, started.

“Careful, Max.”

Max shoves another bite of waffle into his mouth and nods, not even looking up at Magnus.

“So, Raphael, chocolate chip or blueberry?”

Raphael looks up at Alec, eyes wide, fork halfway to his mouth.

“Waffles. Do you like chocolate chip or blueberry waffles better?” Alec looks at Raphael in genuine curiosity, and Magnus just smiles.

“I… uh… I like the chocolate chip.” Raphael looks down at his plate.

“Ah, a noble choice.” Raphael gives Magnus the tiniest little smile.

Max lunges in front of Raphael in an attempt to grab the syrup, but instead knocks it over into Raphael’s plate. The smile disappears entirely from Raphael’s face, and he looks between Alec and Magnus; he looks afraid, like he thinks he’s going to get in trouble, that he’s done something wrong and that’s it, that crosses the line, they’ll say he’s not allowed to live with them anymore, he has to go.

At the beginning, Raphael had that look all the time, with everyone. He was always afraid, didn't really trust any of them; more than anything, it was Max who changed that.

Magnus just laughs, and Alec’s smiling fondly even as he sighs.

“ _Max_ ,” Alec says, but Max is laughing, and Alec's smile only grows.

Raphael looks up at them, confused, but Magnus just sets the pitcher straight and shakes his head as Max reaches for it again.

“I think you have enough syrup, Max. You too, Raphael.”

And that’s it, it’s over. And after a moment, Raphael picks up his fork and cuts off one square of waffle, drenched in syrup, and pops it into his mouth. Max, who looks very unhappy about this unfortunate change of events, now has only one square left, and he picks it up with his fingers and devours it.

“I want to go outside.”

“Max, it’s pouring. You’ll get soaked.”

“Raphael can come with me.”

Magnus chuckles. “That’s very nice of you, Max, but it’s raining. Why don’t you play inside?”

Raphael just watches the three of them, clearly unsure as to where he belongs in the conversation.

“Maybe Raphael wants to play a game?” Alec looks at Raphael then, but before he can answer, Max says, “Can we paint our fingernails?”

Alec smiles. “Sure, Max. But let’s get you cleaned up first. Come on.”

Alec takes Max’s, Magnus’ and his own plates, all empty and a little sticky, over to the sink as Max hops down from the barstool and walks over to him. Alec takes his hand, grimacing, and takes him into the bathroom down the hall to wash his face and hands, Max bouncing along beside him.

Raphael, very aware that it is now just him and Magnus, stops eating, eyes glued to his plate.

This is not new. This is not the first time this has happened. It’s just harder for Raphael when it’s one-on-one, it always has been. And Magnus and Alec have, with a process of trial and error, learned how to best help Raphael feel more comfortable; so Magnus just smiles at him, sincere as ever, and goes over to the sink. With his back to Raphael, he runs the water until it’s hot, then grabs the sponge and a plate.

Magnus and Alec have only ever had one conversation about this. It was a simple decision, really; they wanted Max and, later, Raphael to learn the mundane approach. They wanted them to know both the mundane and shadow worlds, and for them to then be able to choose. That’s not to say Magnus doesn’t use magic around the loft, or that they don’t encourage Max in learning magic and Raphael in learning runes, but it’s balanced, or as balanced as they can stand to make it. (Magnus _hates_ cleaning.)

 

In the bathroom, Max is sitting on the toilet seat and Alec is squatting in front of him, a wet washcloth in his hand, cleaning the syrup off of Max’s chin, his other hand resting on Max’s jaw in an effort to keep him still.

Max squirms.

“ _Max_. Max, come on,” Alec says, but he’s smiling.

“I need to get my sword.”

“Why do you need your sword?” Alec asks, wiping the last of the syrup from Max’s face and standing up.

“So we can play pirates.”

Max jumps up, and they walk over to the sink with the little step stool, and Max steps up. Alec pushes Max's sleeves back and turns on the faucet. Max takes about a third of a second to wash his hands, then dries them on the little towel hanging on the wall and bolts out the door. Alec rolls his eyes and follows.

When he enters the kitchen, Magnus is washing dishes at the sink, and Raphael is smiling at him from the counter, like they’ve been talking; Max is clinging to Magnus’ leg.

“I want my sword.”

Magnus turns off the faucet and dries his hands with a dish towel, then turns a little so he can look down at Max.

“I thought you wanted to paint your nails?”

“I wanna play pirates.”

Magnus leans down a little and lowers his voice. “Do you want to know a secret about pirates?”

Max nods.

“They always paint their nails. It’s where all their power comes from.”

“Then why do they have swords?”

Magnus grins. “Because they look cool.”

Max seems to think about that for a moment, then gives a tiny little shrug. He detaches himself from Magnus’ leg and runs off into the living room; Raphael watches him go, then climbs down from his chair and brings his plate over to the sink. Magnus takes it from him, smiling softly, and Raphael turns and slowly walks out after Max.

Alec smiles at Magnus.

“You really don’t want to be chased around the loft, do you?”

“I’m wearing _silk_ , Alexander. _Silk_. One does not run in _silk_.”

Alec chuckles, just a little, then reaches out to take Magnus’ hand.

They walk into the living room, where Raphael and Max are both standing in front of the little end table piled with little bottles of nail polish ( _someone_ had insisted he paint someone’s nails the night before, and Magnus had fallen asleep before he’d remembered to magic them back into the bathroom). They don’t seem to have noticed Alec and Magnus yet.

Max picks up a bottle of turquoise nail polish and holds it up for Raphael to see.

“This one?” Raphael shakes his head, and Max sets the little bottle back with the rest. He picks up another, this one crimson, and Raphael cocks his head and considers it for a moment before shaking his head again. Max puts it back and surveys the table, obviously in deep thought. After a moment, he picks up a deep purple and holds it out to Raphael. Raphael hesitates, but then he nods and Max turns, marching right past Alec and Magnus, and sits down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. (“It’s just not _practical_ , Magnus. We have a table. We don’t need the counter. And it’s too high for Max. He could fall.”) Raphael follows and sits next to him, then looks over his shoulder at Magnus and Alec, clearly expecting them to join them.

Magnus gives Alec a small smile, squeezes his hand, then lets go and walks over, Alec only a step behind him. But Max doesn’t seem to care. He’s giving Raphael his “come on” look, and when Raphael turns back to him, he looks confused, like he doesn’t know why Max is looking at _him_ like that. Max just pats the table and says, “You have to put your hands down.”

Alec and Magnus pull up chairs across from the two of them, and Raphael gives them one of his looks, one that says, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do and I’m afraid I’m going to mess it up,” and Alec smiles at him really, really gently.

This was one of the things Magnus had been absolutely thrilled about discovering about Alec; Alec Lightwood was the softest, gentlest, sweetest person, quite possibly to ever exist on the planet. Ever. Alec was adorable, and so, so sweet, and it was one of the things Magnus loved most about him.

“Do you want Max to paint your nails?”

Raphael’s eyes go a little wide.

“It’s for power,” Max chimes in.

Raphael glances at Max, then looks back at Alec and Magnus. Alec’s smile is still so gentle.

“Max wants to play pirates, and nail polish is very powerful for pirates. But you don’t have to get your nails painted if you don’t want to.”

Magnus is giving Alec a _very_ sappy grin, Max is tapping the table in impatience, and Raphael still looks uncomfortable. Alec gives him an encouraging smile; Raphael looks down at the table for a moment, then looks up at Max and nods, very slowly.

“Okay.”

It's the first time he has ever consented to having his nails painted.

This is a tradition in the Lightwood-Bane household; every Saturday morning after breakfast, they gather around the kitchen table and someone paints someone else’s nails. Since Raphael’s arrival, he's sat with them and watched, and he's always declined when someone had offered. But he always watches, and it's a very proud moment for Magnus and Alec when he joins in.

Raphael puts his hands on the table in front of Max, and Max, with some difficulty, unscrews the brush. He brings it down over Raphael’s left hand, and a glob of purple lands on Raphael’s skin. Neither of them seem to mind much, and Max coats his nail before moving on to the next finger. Magnus just smiles at them and flourishes a bottle of maroon nail polish he’s brought in from the living room, turning to Alec.

“May I?”

Alec smiles at him and splays his hands out on the table, and Magnus opens the bottle.

“Guess this makes us even.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows. “Not even close.”

Last night, Alec was determined to paint little stars on Magnus’ nails. He dragged Magnus out of bed (out of bed!) in the middle of the night (middle of the night!), and made him sit (sit!) on the couch for an hour.

In Alec’s defense, it was Isabelle’s fault. He was very happily in bed, _this close_ to falling asleep, when she called him. And Alec, in a moment of extreme idiocy, answered. Their conversation started off somewhat intelligent, but digressed to Isabelle saying there was no way Alec could paint stars on someone’s fingernails. And Alec obviously had to prove her wrong. So he grabbed the closest person in reach (Magnus), and had brought their (Magnus’) entire collection of nail polish into the living room. (“It’s unlawful to use nail polish in the bedroom. It could get on the _sheets_ , Alexander.”) The entire time, Magnus kept almost falling asleep, and Alec kept shaking him awake so Magnus could give him pointers. Not that he was much help.

After an hour, the stars just looked like little yellow blobs, and Alec gave up and dragged Magnus, who refused to open his eyes, back to bed.

 

Max brushes nail polish across Raphael’s nails with great care, his nose all scrunched up in concentration. It’s adorable, really, and Raphael eagerly watches Max at work; only when Max puts the brush away does Raphael really look at his nails.

There’s polish everywhere; on his nails, sure, but also on his skin and the table. But Raphael just smiles down at his hands, then he looks up at Alec and Magnus like he’s making sure that’s okay. They both smile at him, and Magnus says, “They’re lovely.”

Raphael looks back down at his hands with that tiny little smile, and he stretches them out a little bit on the table. Max holds out the nail polish to him.

“You can do mine now.”

Raphael just blinks at him for a moment, then smiles the tiniest bit and takes the bottle.

“Here,” Magnus says, “do you want me to dry them?” He’s just started on Alec’s right hand, but he’s looking at Raphael.

Raphael barely hesitates before saying, “Okay.”

Magnus smiles, and both he and Raphael set down their bottles of nail polish. Raphael lays his hands on the table, and Magnus raises his over Raphael’s. Little sparks fall from Magnus’ palms onto Raphael’s nails, drying them in an instant, and Raphael watches, eyes wide, the way he always does when Magnus uses magic.

It wasn't like that at first.

When Magnus and Alec first met Raphael, they were very careful; and they assumed Raphael had only ever seen magic in combat, so Magnus didn't use it for fear of scaring him. But that didn’t mean Alec and Magnus stopped encouraging Max. Max’s magic was weak, to say the least, and the most he could do was produce little sparks that tingled when they made contact with skin. That, and occasionally set things on fire. But mostly, his magic was harmless.

It was an accident, the first time Raphael had seen magic in their household.

It was after about a week, and they were sitting around the kitchen table over breakfast when Alec, in one of his clumsier moments, reaching for Magnus' hand, knocked over his glass into Max’s lap. Max was so surprised that sparks shot out of his hands. They hadn’t done anything, had sort of just fizzled out, but Raphael jumped about a foot in the air.

They talked about it. A lot. And they came to the obvious conclusion that they had to do what was best for Raphael. The tricky part was figuring out what that was. They didn’t want to overwhelm or scare him, but they didn’t want him to be afraid of magic either. So Raphael had continued seeing little sparks of magic from Max, and then slightly less little sparks from Magnus. And as it turns out, once he wasn’t afraid of it, Raphael loved magic, and he loved watching Magnus use it.

 

Raphael gives Magnus the little smile he always does when Magnus used magic, looks at his dry nails in awe for a moment, then suddenly becomes shy again and ducks his head. Magnus smiles at him, Magnus is always smiling at him, and goes back to painting Alec’s nails. He's painting little yellow stars, and they're flawless.

Only once both Alec and Magnus are looking away does Raphael pick up the little bottle of purple nail polish and begin to paint Max’s nails. Raphael’s brows are furrowed in concentration, and he is so intensely focused on what he's doing that he doesn't notice when Max started humming. It isn't a song he would recognize anyway, but there’s been a lot of humming and soft singing around the loft since he’s arrived, and he’s grown rather used to it. Magnus and Alec discovered that it was one of the things that calmed him down best; when he had a nightmare, when he was especially nervous, whenever he was frightened; they’d sing to him, and he’d just… soften.

Magnus finishes Alec’s nails and dries them with a flick of his hand, then waits as Raphael screws the brush back into the bottle.

“Max, do you want me to dry them?”

Max nods and leans over across the table to put his hands in front of Magnus, the way he has a hundred times before. Magnus chuckles, then raises his hands over Max’s and lets little blue sparks fall from them. Max is practically bouncing in his seat, and the moment Magnus is done, he jumps up and runs across the kitchen.

“Max, careful,” Alec calls after him, but Max ignores him, if he hears him at all, and he disappears around the corner into his bedroom. A moment later, he emerges carrying two small wooden swords. He runs over to Raphael-“Don’t run with swords, Max”- and deposits one in Raphael’s lap. Raphael looks both confused and surprised, but picks up the sword nonetheless.

Max steps back into his battle-fighting stance. “You’ll never beat me! I’m King Pirate!”

Magnus leans in toward Alec, lowering his voice. “ _Silk,_ Alexander. _Silk._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr [here](http://900yearsoftimeandspacce.tumblr.com/).


End file.
